


The Meaning Of My Life Is...

by fiddleyoumust



Series: Elle [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-29
Updated: 2010-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:11:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleyoumust/pseuds/fiddleyoumust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon and Spencer have a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meaning Of My Life Is...

Brendon wants a baby. It's not something he thinks about or plans. He just wakes up one morning and drinks the last of Spencer's pot of coffee. He takes Dylan for a walk. He takes a shower and smokes a cigarette. He sits down next to Spencer and pulls the newspaper out of his hands. It won't fold right, and eventually Brendon gets frustrated with it, placing it in a messy pile on the coffee table.

"I want a baby," Brendon says.

Spencer, to his credit, doesn't even blink. He looks at his crumpled paper, his brow wrinkled up so that Brendon knows he's annoyed. He looks at his hands. He looks at his feet. He looks out the sliding glass door, his skin crinkling when he squints his eyes against the sun.

"I don't think," Spencer starts. "I'm not ready for a baby," he says.

Spencer holds his shoulders tight when he's ready to fight. Brendon wraps his hand over one of them and squeezes and kneads. He digs his fingers in hard until he feels the muscles loosen under his fingers. Spencer doesn't turn around. He keeps his focus on whatever -- on the grass or the sky or the dog sniffing around in the flower bed.

Brendon says, "Okay," and Spencer doesn't turn around.

 

###

 

Brendon wakes up wrapped around Spencer. It never matters how mad he is when he falls asleep. He always starts out on his side of the bed, and he always ends up wrapped around Spencer. He's not mad now, though. It's not anger he feels settling into his gut, so there's no reason to pull away.

Brendon cups his hand around Spencer's cock. It's soft and warm and a little damp. They're both sweating from their combined body heat.

Brendon feels it as Spencer wakes up. He feels Spencer's chest rumble. He feels Spencer's hands move to settle at the small of his back and the curve of his hip. He tilts his head up, scraping his jaw along Spencer's shoulder. His face rasps against Spencer's skin, and he remembers he didn't shave yesterday. He may not have shaved the day before that, either.

Spencer leans down and kisses him. Their mouths are both warm and sour from sleep. Brendon kisses him back, working his hand over Spencer's cock in the same rhythm he works his tongue into Spencer's mouth. Spencer's thumb moves lower against Brendon's back, brushing along the crease of his ass. His other hand strokes soothingly along Brendon's hip.

It's warm under the covers. Spencer's skin feels safe, and Brendon finds himself clinging, his fingers digging into skin and muscle. Sometimes he doesn't feel close enough. Sometimes he thinks there will never be a part of Spencer that belongs to him more than it belongs to someone else.

Brendon knows there's lube in the bedside drawer, but if feels too far away. He runs his thumb around the head of Spencer's cock and through the precome leaking at the tip. His mouth is wet with their combined spit, as he pulls away from Spencer's lips. He pulls his hand away from Spencer's cock too, just long enough to spit in his palm before he goes back. It probably won't be enough, but Brendon likes the stretch and burn of it.

Spencer arches into Brendon's fist. His hands move up Brendon's body, over warm skin and soft hair. He cups Brendon's face in his hands and runs his thumb along Brendon's bottom lip. Brendon sucks Spencer's fingers into his mouth when he offers them, making them as wet as he can. Spencer pushes his fingers against Brendon's tongue and Brendon sucks and sucks until Spencer slides them free. He goes back to Brendon's ass then, and Brendon scrambles up, putting himself directly on top of Spencer. It puts his arm at an awkward angle, so that he can't do much more than squeeze his fist around Spencer's cock. Spencer works his finger into Brendon's ass, thick and steady but not really slick enough to feel good.

Brendon feels like he hasn't woken up yet. He feels like his body and mind are still half asleep, like maybe this is a dream and he'll wake up curled in on himself on his own side of the bed. Spencer doesn't do anything fancy. He uses two fingers to stretch Brendon before urging him up. Brendon straddles Spencer's waist. Spencer's cock is thick and hot where Spencer just stretched him. Spencer's not gentle, but that's okay too. Brendon likes that about them. He likes everything Spencer makes him feel.

Brendon rides him, slow and sleepy, his body waking up a little more every time Spencer's cock angles in the right way. Spencer arches up to kiss him every now and then. Brendon bends down, so that they meet half way. His hands fall to Spencer's chest, his nail scraping lightly against Spencer's nipple, his fingers brushing against the hairs there.

Spencer's hips come up off the bed when he gets close. Brendon grinds down, pinches one of Spencer's nipples between his fingers and moves his other hand to his own cock. It's a race after that, skin slapping skin. It's Brendon's cock against his own palm and Spencer's hips against Brendon's ass. They come together -- Spencer deep inside Brendon, Brendon across his knuckles and Spencer's stomach. They come together.

 

###

 

Spencer makes coffee, and Brendon showers. The kitchen smells like bacon when he finally comes down with his hair damp against the collar of his shirt. Spencer is still in his robe, and when Brendon kisses him he can smell the two of them on Spencer's skin.

"I made breakfast," Spencer says.

The toaster creaks and snaps, and Brendon jumps at the sound. There are waffles and bacon. Spencer has syrup on the counter.

"I'm not really hungry," Brendon says.

He's jittery. Maybe he needs coffee. Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but he pours himself a cup anyway. Spencer hands him the sugar bowl without a spoon and Brendon takes it from him, dumping the bowl over his cup until it's more sugar than coffee.

"Feeling sick?" Spencer asks.

Brendon's not, really. It's more unsettled, but he doesn't know how to say that. He nods. He sips his coffee. Spencer puts butter on the waffles. They've gone cold already. The butter is straight from the fridge and it won't spread right, little clumps clinging to the dips in the batter.

"You could put them back in, warm them up," Brendon says.

Spencer shakes his head and adds syrup. "It's fine like this," he says.

Spencer folds his waffle in half like a taco and takes a bite. Brendon watches him chew and swallow. He watches the way Spencer's throat muscles move under his skin.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks.

Brendon nods and says, "I'm nauseous, I think."

Spencer bites his lips, both of them curling into a tight line across his face. The corners of his mouth turn up and he snorts and rolls his eyes. "Maybe I knocked you up," he says.

Brendon looks up and sees _sorry, sorry, sorry_. He says, "Will you do right by me, Spencer Smith?"

Spencer smiles. Spencer says, "Tell me again."

Brendon says, "I want a baby."

Spencer says, "Me too."

 

###

 

Sometimes, when Brendon takes Dylan to the park, Spencer will come along. Dylan loves it because Spencer will get down in the grass and throw sticks for her. Brendon doesn't let Dylan off the leash anymore, because he's been fined by the city half a dozen times. The tickets never get paid, forgotten in jeans pockets and lost to the washing machine. Spencer gets cranky when the second notice comes in the mail, but he writes the check and digs out a stamp and puts it out in the mailbox for the carrier to pick up the following day.

Brendon buys Dylan squeaky toys and keeps them in a basket at the end of their bed. There's a kennel in the garage that Brendon's had since he moved in with Spencer. He's not sure it's ever been used, because Dylan has a dog bed in the corner of their room by the dresser.

Brendon sits on a bench and pulls out his lighter. "Do you think we spoil the dog?" Brendon asks.

Spencer throws a stick and Dylan runs across the grass, a gray streak bounding through tall, green blades. Dylan brings the stick back and drops it in Spencer's lap. "I don't know," Spencer says. He shrugs. "Maybe."

Brendon lights a cigarette. His fingers are yellow on the tips, around the callouses. "I should quit smoking," Brendon says.

Spencer gets up and brushes the dirt off his ass. He takes Brendon's cigarette and smokes it. He ashes and hands it back. "You should," he agrees.

"Do you think we can train our baby to fetch the remote and bring it to us?" Brendon asks.

Spencer throws his head back and laughs. He circles his fingers around Brendon's wrist and tugs until Brendon stands up and leans into him. He kisses the corner of Brendon's mouth and rubs his nose along Brendon's cheek.

Spencer says, "I don't know. Are you going to buy our baby squeaky toys?"

"I'll buy our baby anything it wants," Brendon says.

Spencer says, "I already get you the remote whenever you want it, you know?"

Brendon rests his head on Spencer's shoulder and presses his face against his neck. "I know," he says.

Dylan barks from somewhere far away. There are sounds everywhere, children screaming and birds singing and cars rushing by, not too far off.

Brendon says, "Spencer? Where's Dylan?"

Spencer steps away and cranes his neck across the park. He shouts, "Dylan! Dylan, come!"

Brendon whistles. "Dylan!" he calls.

Spencer says, "We might be terrible parents."

Brendon sees gray, a tiny spot across the park where children are playing. The spot is getting bigger, running faster toward the sounds of their voices. Brendon smiles and says, "I think we'll be okay."

 

###

 

Ryan throws them a party complete with pink and blue balloons. They have punch and little finger sandwiches. Most everyone stands in small groups and talks, partly because they want to, and partly because Ryan's furniture is all very uncomfortable.

Brendon doesn't know if Ryan's ever had children in his house. He looks a little unsure, talking to Brendon's nephew. He keeps looking toward Spencer, a worried expression on his face. Spencer isn't paying attention, but Brendon's not sure he would save Ryan even if he were. Spencer takes a lot of enjoyment from seeing Ryan squirm.

Brendon talks with his mother. She sips wine and gets a little sentimental. She brought baby books full of pictures, and she proudly shows them off to anyone willing to look. Brendon hasn't felt this embarrassed since high school.

"I ran away from your nephew," Ryan says, startling Brendon.

Brendon sloshes punch across his wrist and licks it off. His mother is still going on and on about a piano recital Brendon performed in when he was ten. There's lots of mentions of his 'musical genius'.

"Coward," Brendon says.

Ryan shrugs, like he doesn't care to deny it. Brendon studies his face. He needs a hair cut, but Brendon is afraid to tell him. Ryan and haircuts never end well.

"Your nephew is scary," Ryan says.

Brendon rolls his eyes.

"Darien," Brendon says.

Ryan says, "What?"

Brendon says, "My nephew's name is Darien."

"Well," Ryan says. "Darien asked me if his dad is going to beat Spencer up for having a baby with his mother. I didn't know what to tell him."

Brendon laughs, looking around to see if he can spot Darien anywhere near by.

"What _did_ you tell him?" Brendon asks.

Ryan says, "I told him to go ask his mother."

Brendon punches Ryan on the shoulder lightly. Ryan sways, rocking back on his heels, because he is a skinny guy. Ryan is the perfect example of what people are referring to when they say things like, 'a good, stiff wind could knock him over'.

"Good thinking," Brendon says.

Brendon wonders what Kara will tell Darien. He wonders if there's an easy way to explain something like this to a child. Brendon isn't even sure how to explain it to himself. He's not sure how he'll ever tell his sister how much this means to him.

"It would be tragic if all of this led to fisticuffs," Ryan says. "I would inevitably have to avenge Spencer, and then you would be without two band members."

Brendon looks thoughtful. He tilts his head and considers Ryan.

"Jon and I are the more talented members anyway," Brendon says.

Ryan laughs and throws his arm companionably over Brendon's shoulders. "Spencer and I are better looking," he says. "You'd be nothing without us."

Brendon doesn't disagree.

 

###

 

Kara is huge and round and has to go the bathroom every ten minutes.

"I'll be back," she says the moment they're through the doors at Target.

"You need help?" Spencer asks.

Kara smiles and says, "Not unless you can pee for me."

Brendon sticks his hand in Spencer's back pocket. Kara goes off toward the bathroom and doesn't look back. Brendon has to pull and dig his heels into the floor to keep Spencer away from the electronics section.

"No, no, no, no," he says, and Spencer huffs and grumps and lets Brendon lead the way.

Their basket has a wonky wheel. It keeps getting stuck and dragging across the floor -- _thud, thud, thudddd_ \-- but Brendon is too excited to be annoyed. He picks up everything. He touches and turn and considers. They pick out a mobile and a toy chest and a jumper. Spencer gets sidetracked by some electronic thing that helps children learn how to read.

"I don't think the baby will need that for a few years," Brendon says.

"It's cool," Spencer says. "He'll like it."

Brendon frowns, crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his hands against his armpits. "No gender specifics!" he says.

Brendon doesn't want to know the sex of the baby. Kara knows, probably her husband too, but Brendon didn't want to know. Brendon doesn't like the idea of predetermining anything before he even gets to meet the baby. Brendon wants his children to be exactly who they are, starting in the womb. He's pretty sure Spencer doesn't get it, but Spencer's been indulging Brendon for years and years. Spencer doesn't know either, but Brendon thinks he really wants a boy.

"Yeah, yeah," Spencer says, waving Brendon off. He goes back to the little computer, spelling CAT enthusiastically, jabbing his pointer finger against the buttons.

Brendon browses until he gets himself lost in an aisle full of Fisher Price toys. He decides to build a city out of blocks. Spencer comes along eventually and sits down in the aisle next to him.

"Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down," Brendon says.

Spencer knocks his hand against one of the Weebles. They watch it rock in place, back and forth and back and forth and back again, until it stills, standing firmly upright. Spencer gets up and pulls Brendon up with both hands. Spencer nudges the toys with the toe of his shoe. "We should pick these up," he says.

Brendon nods and looks away down the aisle. His eyes catch on something and he turns, just as Spencer stoops to pick up the toys on the floor.

"Hey, Spencer," Brendon says excitedly. "Hey, look."

Brendon turns and watches Spencer shove the toys back on a shelf even though it's most definitely not where they belong. He walks up the aisle and hooks his chin over Brendon's shoulder. Brendon runs his fingers over a bright red key board with black and white keys. Spencer smiles against Brendon's neck.

"Can we get it?" Brendon asks.

Spencer reaches around Brendon, his arms tucked firmly under Brendon's armpits. He presses down on the keys. He plays London Bridge and The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Brendon plays a tiny bit of Carmina Burana.

"Show off," Spencer says.

Brendon thinks about music. He thinks about Christmas around the piano when he was growing up. He thinks about playing until his fingers hurt, and then being angry because he couldn't play more. "Do you think our baby will love music?" Brendon asks.

Kara comes waddling down the aisle. She looks flushed and tired and frustrated. "Are you ready?" she asks.

Spencer kisses Brendon's neck and puts the piano in their cart. "Yeah we're good," he says, smiling at Brendon.

Brendon smiles back. He looks at Kara and asks, "You need anything before we check out?"

Kara bites her lips and shifts on her feet. There are tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "You guys owe me so big," she says.

Brendon hugs her, as tightly as he dares. "You're just tired," he says. "We'll take you home, and I'll make Spencer rub your feet."

Spencer says, "I'll make Brendon do it."

"I am tired," Kara says. "Also, it took me so long to find you guys that I have to pee again."

Spencer picks up the little red key board and plays a few bars of Lean On Me. Brendon wraps his arm around his sister's waist as they walk, and Spencer pushes the cart.

 

###

 

Brendon discovers that it's not like the movies. Having a baby is a disgusting process. Kara looks pale and tired. She has a burst blood vessel in her eye from pushing too hard.

"I feel bad," Brendon says, skimming his finger along the skin under her eye.

The nurses are still fussing. One of them goes out and comes back in with Spencer. Kara's husband, Mike, gets up from beside the bed and pats Spencer's shoulder.

"Congratulations," he says.

Spencer smiles, but he looks at Brendon. "Thanks," he says, and the word is heavy. It feels like Spencer might mean a million different things, and Brendon understands them all.

"Who's got dibs?" one of the nurses asks. She turns from the table with a small bundle in a yellow blanket. Everyone in the room looks at Brendon. He puts his arms out, hands shaking, and takes his daughter.

"Hi. Hi, baby," he says.

Spencer comes over and kisses Brendon's temple. He looks down and skims his finger gently over the baby's cheek. "I think we can finally be gender specific," he says.

Brendon leans into Spencer. Their daughter wiggles and squirms. Brendon thinks about Moses and about Noah. He wonders if this is how they felt. Brendon thinks about seeing the face of God.

The room fills with people: Ryan and Keltie; Spencer's sisters and his parents; Brendon's entire family. Jon and Cassie call from Chicago, and Spencer spends ten minutes telling Jon about babies' toes.

Brendon can barely hear himself think over the din of voices. His daughter has blue, blue eyes. She fits in the palms of his hands, tiny and helpless, and Brendon is more in love than he's ever been in his entire life.

"What will you name her?" Kara asks quietly. Mike smooths her hair off her forehead and holds her hand.

Brendon says, "What's your name, baby?"

Spencer comes over and crouches down. Brendon thinks Jon must have finally gotten sick of listening to Spencer talk about tiny appendages. "Jon says he's going to buy her some flip flops," he says.

Brendon nods, but he doesn't look. He knows she's probably not really looking at him. He knows her eyes probably don't see him, but it feels like she's studying him, testing him. Brendon wants to do well. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks again.

Spencer says, "I was thinking about Elle."

Brendon looks up, then. He looks at Spencer because he didn't know Spencer was thinking about this at all. Sometimes it feels like he's doing his own thing, dragging Spencer along for the ride, even if Spencer's never really made him feel that way.

"Elle?" Brendon questions breathlessly.

Spencer looks vaguely embarrassed. He looks at Brendon and at the baby in his arms. "It means _She_ ," he says. "I think it's kind of perfectly unassuming. She can be anything she wants to be. She can fill in her own blanks."

Brendon isn't going to cry in front of their family and friends. He isn't. He's going to save it for later. He's going to make it keep until he can curl up with Spencer. He thinks Spencer will understand. He blinks back the tears. He looks at their daughter.

"Hi, Elle," he says. "Welcome to the world."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has a sequel that can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/145729).


End file.
